Americanized ideas of noblesse oblige, Steel’s jet was also a lot smaller than this.
The four people in the cabin she had sort of trespassed her way into were gawking. Finally, the only lady in the group – a pink-haired woman whose bubble-blowing skills Saffi envied – popped her gum and said, “I think he’s with the tech crew at the very back. Just go straight. You’ll see all the electronic stuff and that’s the right place.”
“Thanks!” She gave them a quick awkward smile, trying not to mind how they were still gawking before speeding further down the plane.
Behind her, Saffi was unaware that the four people had already scrambled out of the cabin, intent on spreading the word that the boss’ newest G had “left the building” in search of her boy toy Alan Carson.
Saffi chewed her lip. By now, Staffan would probably be wondering why it was taking her so long to get back to him. Saffi had only excused herself to go to the restroom, but in truth she just felt it wasn’t right for her to hang out with him. Although they weren’t alone, the others – like Eddie, his choreographer, and the rest of his vocal backups – had something important to contribute to the tour. She didn’t.
When she finally reached the area where the tech crew was checking the equipment, there was no sign of Alan. All ten of them came to a standstill at the sight of her. “Excuse me. Is Alan Carson around?”
They silently pointed to the door at the back, still gaping. Her head bobbing in thanks, she sped past them, again not seeing how everyone was in a mad scramble to spread the word among the rest of the crew that the Sex God seemed to have lost his touch.
Saffi quietly opened the door and flipped the light switch when darkness greeted her.
“Murderous mackerel.”
Alan was engaged in a passionate embrace.
With another man.
~~~
“Boss? I think we have another problem.” Bob was at the doorway again, glancing over his shoulder like escape from a madman was impossible.
The worst kind of déjà vu hit Staffan. Cursing under his breath, he said, “It’s H again, isn’t it?”
Bob slowly nodded.
“What’s it this time?”
“It’s not been confirmed,” Bob hedged. “But I’ve been hearing things---”
“Just spill it.”
“I’ve been hearing stuff from the crew, boss. They say she’s, err, with the dancer Carson and they’re, err, engaged in private business.”
Staffan saw red.
“Where. Are. They.”
“Boss, how about I check it out first---”
“Goddammit, Bob. If you don’t fucking tell me where they are right now, I’m going to beat it out of you instead.”
Bob flinched. Although he knew it wasn’t a real threat, the voice reminded him too much of how Staffan had been in the past, right after his most god-awful breakup with The Cougar. Before his employer’s almost miraculous overnight change three months ago, Staffan had been a mess, drinking himself to death and involved with every brawl he encountered – which there was a lot of since Staffan had spent practically every night in bars – and behind bars.
Bob opened his mouth to say it. But no words came out. He wouldn’t have cared what happened to other Gs, but this one was different. He knew it – everyone knew it. Only the boss didn’t seem to know it – or didn’t want to know it. “Boss---”
Staffan lost patience. His voice was chilling and low as he spoke. “Bob. You owe your fucking loyalty to me. Your concern for the girl is touching – but misplaced. Since I didn’t fucking kill Chloe when she betrayed me, I won’t fucking lose my head over whatever this is.”
Bob gave in. “They say she’s at the back, inside a locked room with Carson---”
A white-faced Staffan walked past him.
Dammit to hell, Saffi March. What the fuck happened to make you so crazy tonight?
~~~
Alan and the other man broke apart almost violently, panic written all over their faces. “What the hell are
The four people in the cabin she had sort of trespassed her way into were gawking. Finally, the only lady in the group – a pink-haired woman whose bubble-blowing skills Saffi envied – popped her gum and said, “I think he’s with the tech crew at the very back. Just go straight. You’ll see all the electronic stuff and that’s the right place.”
“Thanks!” She gave them a quick awkward smile, trying not to mind how they were still gawking before speeding further down the plane.
Behind her, Saffi was unaware that the four people had already scrambled out of the cabin, intent on spreading the word that the boss’ newest G had “left the building” in search of her boy toy Alan Carson.
Saffi chewed her lip. By now, Staffan would probably be wondering why it was taking her so long to get back to him. Saffi had only excused herself to go to the restroom, but in truth she just felt it wasn’t right for her to hang out with him. Although they weren’t alone, the others – like Eddie, his choreographer, and the rest of his vocal backups – had something important to contribute to the tour. She didn’t.
When she finally reached the area where the tech crew was checking the equipment, there was no sign of Alan. All ten of them came to a standstill at the sight of her. “Excuse me. Is Alan Carson around?”
They silently pointed to the door at the back, still gaping. Her head bobbing in thanks, she sped past them, again not seeing how everyone was in a mad scramble to spread the word among the rest of the crew that the Sex God seemed to have lost his touch.
Saffi quietly opened the door and flipped the light switch when darkness greeted her.
“Murderous mackerel.”
Alan was engaged in a passionate embrace.
With another man.
~~~
“Boss? I think we have another problem.” Bob was at the doorway again, glancing over his shoulder like escape from a madman was impossible.
The worst kind of déjà vu hit Staffan. Cursing under his breath, he said, “It’s H again, isn’t it?”
Bob slowly nodded.
“What’s it this time?”
“It’s not been confirmed,” Bob hedged. “But I’ve been hearing things---”
“Just spill it.”
“I’ve been hearing stuff from the crew, boss. They say she’s, err, with the dancer Carson and they’re, err, engaged in private business.”
Staffan saw red.
“Where. Are. They.”
“Boss, how about I check it out first---”
“Goddammit, Bob. If you don’t fucking tell me where they are right now, I’m going to beat it out of you instead.”
Bob flinched. Although he knew it wasn’t a real threat, the voice reminded him too much of how Staffan had been in the past, right after his most god-awful breakup with The Cougar. Before his employer’s almost miraculous overnight change three months ago, Staffan had been a mess, drinking himself to death and involved with every brawl he encountered – which there was a lot of since Staffan had spent practically every night in bars – and behind bars.
Bob opened his mouth to say it. But no words came out. He wouldn’t have cared what happened to other Gs, but this one was different. He knew it – everyone knew it. Only the boss didn’t seem to know it – or didn’t want to know it. “Boss---”
Staffan lost patience. His voice was chilling and low as he spoke. “Bob. You owe your fucking loyalty to me. Your concern for the girl is touching – but misplaced. Since I didn’t fucking kill Chloe when she betrayed me, I won’t fucking lose my head over whatever this is.”
Bob gave in. “They say she’s at the back, inside a locked room with Carson---”
A white-faced Staffan walked past him.
Dammit to hell, Saffi March. What the fuck happened to make you so crazy tonight?
~~~
Alan and the other man broke apart almost violently, panic written all over their faces. “What the hell are
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